


Would That I

by UninspiredPoet



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amputation, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Doctor/Patient, Eventual Smut, F/F, Lesbian Relationship, Permanent Injury, Physical Disability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rehabilitation, discontinued
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23813980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UninspiredPoet/pseuds/UninspiredPoet
Summary: In a terrible incident in the field in which Fareeha saved her entire unit, she has sacrificed more than she could ever have prepared herself for.The road to recovery is so long that it seems nearly impossible both mentally and physically.Perhaps knowing just how hopeless the situation likely seems to her daughter, Ana reaches out to an old friend for help.  The best doctor she's ever known.Angela Ziegler.((Set after 'Mission Statement' and the disbanding of Overwatch.))
Relationships: Fareeha "Pharah" Amari/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 44
Kudos: 216





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've taken and likely will take more liberties with canon for this :).  
> Also, this fic is and will continue to be pretty heavy for a while so take care and know that everything will come out alright.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161614435@N03/49811920491/in/dateposted-public/)

“Amari!”

Somewhere beyond the ringing in her ears, she could hear one of her men yelling for her. But she couldn't turn her head. She couldn't move.

Her suit was mangled. 

She couldn't feel her left leg. All at once, in a rush of fear - she realized she couldn’t feel anything else, either. 

Panic began to set in as she tried to force herself up only to find the firm hand of a field medic against her chest pushing her back down.

“How bad is it?” Fareeha asked as she clutched the medic’s wrist as he dropped his kit beside her and kept holding her down with his free hand. But she was struggling. 

“Get off me.”

“Don't look.” He responded quickly. Firmly. “Don't.”

“That's an _order _.” She managed to get out through her clenched teeth.__

__But it was an order he continued to disobey._ _

__Because she didn't need to see, right now. She didn't need to see the way the metal of Raptora had twisted into the flesh of her left leg. She didn't need to see how hopeless it was._ _

__She was already in shock, and that was bad enough._ _

__Soon enough, he didn't have to hold her down. He'd tugged the left leg of her suit away from her hip to tourniquet her thigh and her vision began going dark._ _

__A land mine._ _

__Something as simple as a mine that they hadn't detected had taken out half of her unit, and she'd nearly gone out with them. Perhaps if she hadn't been ensconced in armor, she might have._ _

__There wasn't any struggle left in her. Not for now, at least. Not until they were loading her into a transport and the pain jolted her awake violently._ _

__But...this wasn't the transport._ _

__The lights above her were too bright._ _

__The room was too stark._ _

__“Captain Amari, we need you to calm down.”_ _

__Fareeha’s eyes darted to the side and settled on the doctor that was addressing her. “No, no I'm not going to- I demand to know where-”_ _

__“Count backwards with me from ten. Ten. Nine…”_ _

__Darkness again._ _

__And that's how it went for the next few days. Hell, she even flatlined once._ _

__She'd just lost so much blood._ _

__Her body had suffered so much damage._ _

__But Fareeha had always been a fighter. Even when she didn't know what she was fighting. And this time was no different._ _

____

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pain.

That's all she was aware of for a moment as her eyelids began to flutter. As her fingertips began to twitch.

Everywhere. Every inch of her body hurt and it was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. 

A single, shuddering breath caused her chest to rise and fall differently than it had been for the days Ana had been watching over her.

“Fareeha…”

She groaned. Perhaps the worst pain was in her throat. It was raw and dry and each time she swallowed or inhaled it felt like she was drinking fire.

“Fareeha, open your eyes.” 

She felt warmth against her arm. She heard warmth in the voice that was addressing her.

Her eyes opened, then, into little slits. Just enough for her to take in the sight of her mother at her bedside.

“Must be bad.” Fareeha husked in response to the unfamiliar presence of her mother as her head fell weakly to the side and she grimaced in response to the discomfort of speaking. 

“Shh...don't speak, Fareeha.” Ana’s voice was steady and soft and firm. A solid, grounding presence in the nothingness Fareeha felt like she was lost in. “I know it hurts.”

Ana had pressed the call button the moment she'd realized her daughter might actually wake, and soon enough there were nurses in her room adding things to the IVs she was hooked up to to calm her. To numb her.

But the best part was the water. She didn't even care that much of it slipped from her dry, cracked lips. It soothed her throat like nothing else could have in that moment.

For a while, it was all she focused on. At least, until the nurse pulled the cup away and disappeared with it.

Fareeha’s usually sharp eyes tried to follow her lazily before they began to shut again in response to the liquid sleep flowing into her veins. But more sleep wasn't in the cards at the moment, apparently.

The doctor hadn't left, and her mother was reaching out to place a hand against her cheek to shake her head rather gently to snap her out of it. 

She hadn't even realized the doctor was already speaking to her. 

“-and we’re confident you'll make a full recovery. The more quickly we can get you healed up, the faster you can be fitted with a prosthetic-”

“What?” Fareeha whispered as her vision suddenly snapped into focus on the man standing beside her bead holding a portable holo screen. “A what?”

His brows furrowed for a moment, but he recovered rather quickly.

“As I was saying, the amputation was successful, and we managed to save enough of the hip and thigh that, with a high-quality prosthesis, the leg will eventually be fully functional.” 

“Oh.” Fareeha whispered, her entire body rigid as an uncomfortably thick feeling made itself known in the back of her throat. “I see.” 

He offered her a smile and reached out to place a hand on her shoulder before pulling back and making his exit.

Fareeha didn't look down. She couldn't even feel her mother’s hand on her face anymore. 

Ana had never been so thankful for narcotics as she was in that moment when a mixture of far too many things had her daughter’s eyes sliding shut again.

It was the middle of the night before Fareeha regained consciousness, and she found herself blissfully alone aside from the company of her mother’s coat on the chair she'd taken up residence in. 

She still hadn't looked. She hadn't even looked down at the blankets covering her lower half. She simply reached out with a faintly trembling hand for the pitcher of water at her bedside and, in the absence of any visible cups, drank down a good half of it before she finally placed it back down and let her head fall against her pillow.

That was the first time.

The first time she'd tried to move to get more comfortable and realized all of this hadn't been some terrible dream.

Her brain told her body to dig both her heels into the too-firm mattress, and only one of them responded. 

That feeling was back in her throat again. Only this time her eyes had begun to burn. 

She used the heels of her palms to sit herself up instead, and took in her surroundings. The television on the wall. The bathroom across the way. Anything but this.

Anything but what was waiting for her underneath these thin hospital sheets. 

So instead of looking, she reached down. She reached down to place her hand where her mind told her her left knee should be, and it kept moving. All the way to the mattress. 

Her eyes followed finally. Took in the sight of the outline of her right leg beneath the blanket and little else on the opposite side. 

She had never been so still in her life. She was terrified to move. Terrified, now, of what it would look like. What it would feel like. 

And then there was an alert sounding on one of her monitors. Her heart rate was through the roof. High enough that she could see a red reflection blinking in the hallway from the alert lamp above her door. 

Her breaths were coming too quickly. Too shallowly. And she could feel her vision begin to go out of focus as she reached again for something that wasn't there.

And again.

And again.

Until a nurse came jogging into the room up to her bedside with another plunger of something to add into the line of her IV.

She worked quickly and efficiently - dispensing the medicine and then lowering Fareeha back down so that she was laying instead of sitting.

“Please.” Fareeha gasped as she reached blindly for the nurse. “Please.” 

She didn't know what she was asking for, and the woman knew it. 

“Breathe, Captain Amari. Slower. Deeper. Your mother is just downstairs. She'll be back soon. I've given you something to help you sleep.” The nurse had reached for one of Fareeha’s hands when it flailed towards her so that she could hold it gently in her own. 

Something about the use of her rank sent those words a little deeper home.

But then, this was a military hospital. And they were used to treating soldiers with grievous wounds. They were used to the shock and the panic. And they knew the best ways to counter it. 

“Please…” Fareeha’s voice was a whisper, now. And she was fighting sleep, but at least her breathing had begun to slow and deepen. “Not like this...not like this…”

Ana was silent in the doorway. She watched the exchange as the shards of her heart rubbed their jagged edges against each other and ached terribly within her chest. 

By the time she composed herself enough to make her way into the room, her daughter had fallen silent.

And she hated the look of sympathy the nurse gave her as they passed each other, if only because she knew she didn't deserve it.

If only because she knew she would be leaving soon, lest someone track her here. Lest she make her daughter’s situation even worse. 

She sat down in her chair with that knowledge weighing heavily on her heart, and Fareeha cast a sleepy gaze in her direction.

“I don't want this.” Fareeha whispered. 

“Rest, Fareeha.” Ana warned quietly as she swallowed past the lump in her throat. 

Fareeha was quiet for a while as she regarded her mother before turning her attention to the dark ceiling of her room. 

“When are you leaving?” Fareeha asked in a quiet, even tone. Utterly guarded and emotionless.

Ana was silent at first as her attention fell to her hands in her own lap, but she managed to speak after a while.

“Before the morning. I can't…”

“You can't stay in one place for too long.” Fareeha offered with a weak shrug of one of her shoulders. 

“No. And I have someone I need to pay a visit to.”

“Good luck, then. With your visit.” Fareeha breathed as she turned her head away and looked out the window of her hospital room. At a sky she doubted she would ever touch again. 

It was that line of thinking that followed her into sleep. 

When she woke, it was at the urging of a nurse and in the absence of her mother. The latter wasn’t surprising. 

What was surprising was the sight of the wheeled tray next to the bed full of bandages and a few other things that might suggest what was coming. A sight that struck an emotion in Fareeha that was the exact opposite of what the nurse’s smile was surely trying to draw from her. 

“I need to get that bandage changed, and we need to get you cleaned up.” The nurse explained, glancing at the now-empty chair next to the other woman’s bedside. 

“How long have I been in here?” Fareeha asked quietly. “In this room?” 

“It’s been a few days.” The nurse responded calmly as she leaned in to help Fareeha sit up, only to find the woman nudging her hands away. 

“I can sit up on my own.” Fareeha said sharply before her face fell. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” The nurse offered as she leaned back and nodded. “Sit up for me, then.” 

Fareeha did. Despite the pain that wracked most of her bruised a battered body, she sat up. She even managed to adjust herself until her right leg was hanging off the side of the bed. She left the other covered. 

She’d never been less ready for anything in her life. But when the nurse pulled the blanket away, Fareeha’s eyes betrayed her. They darted down to look at what she’d been refusing to see, and she looked away quickly with a sharp, sudden intake of breath that threatened to double her over. 

But she stayed sitting there stock-still as she felt the old bandages begin to unwind. 

“I don’t need to tell you that it’s okay to be upset, right?” The nurse asked as he went to work, clearly unbothered by the sight she was met with. 

“They couldn’t have saved the knee?” Fareeha asked simply as she stared at the farthest-away wall that she could. 

The nurse shook her head faintly. “No, Captain Amari. It was gone. I’m sorry. I mean that.” 

Fareeha made a dismissive motion with her hand, and the exchange ended soon enough. 

But before the nurse could even leave, movement in the doorway and the appearance of a familiar face caught Fareeha’s attention. 

“Captain.” A salute. A salute that Fareeha returned without hesitation. 

“Tariq?” She asked the question with a sharp furrow of her brow, and the nurse ducked out of the room quickly. Her face was flooded with all the emotion she’d been masking every moment she’d been awake. “I thought...I thought I lost most of you out there.” 

“You didn’t lose anyone.” Tariq responded with a faint smile as he made his way inside with only a slight limp and found the chair that had previously been taken up by Ana. 

Sure, his arm was in a sling. But he didn’t look all that much worse for wear. 

“I don’t...I saw you all go down.” Fareeha sounded as confused as she looked, but even the pain she was in was overshadowed by the relief that was edging its way into her thoughts. 

“No, Captain. That was the concussive blast you managed to get off just before the detonation hit us. I got the worst of it. Your blast, I mean. And all I got out of it was a sprained ankle and a dislocated shoulder. You saved the whole unit. I was just here for a check-up, but I thought you might like to know that before I leave. The unit has some follow-up to do that I have to get caught up on.” 

Fareeha leaned back in the bed and pulled the sheets back up to her waist as she let out a shuddering breath and nodded. “Get on it then, Tariq. Thank you for stopping by.” 

The young man reached over and wrapped a warm, strong hand around Fareeha’s forearm. “No. Thank you.” He responded quietly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

“Don’t thank me. That’s what family is for. But no shirking your duties on my account, rookie.” Fareeha warned quietly. The timer had recently gone off on one of her IVs. She could tell as her thoughts began to get a little cloudy and far away. 

“When are you going to stop calling me that?” He asked as he stood up and reached, instead, for Fareeha’s hand. 

She clasped it tightly as she looked up at him. 

“I’ll get back to you on that.” 

Her voice was a murmur. Low and barely audible. But Tariq offered her a smile. One that took more strength than he’d expected it to. 

But he managed to save his emotion for the quiet elevator ride downstairs. He’d been around enough soldiers to know the last thing his captain needed right now was anything that might be construed as pity. 

Even if he knew what this likely meant for her. 

Even if he had never felt as utterly devastated as he did knowing what she’d sacrificed for him. 

For all of them. 

What he didn’t know, however, was that it was the one small consolation Fareeha had to cling to.


	2. Chapter 2

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161614435@N03/49811920491/in/dateposted-public/)

Angela was still trying to gather her thoughts.

She was still trying to come to terms with the fact that Ana was standing in front of her. That Ana had asked for her help.

But Angela was used to thinking on her feet. She was used to recovering quickly.

“I'm not interested, Ana.” She said as she looked back down at the file that was laying open on her desk. “You knew that before you came here.” 

“This isn't about Overwatch, Angela. Or Jack. Or anything like that.” Ana’s voice sounded strange. Like the normally composed woman was having to put effort into keeping it even. The realization caused Angela to look back up at her and regard her more carefully.

Ana looked older than she had the last time Angela had seen her. And she looked utterly exhausted in a way she'd _never_ seen her.

Angela closed the file on her desk carefully and leaned back in her chair. “What is it, then?”

“My daughter.” Ana said - her voice strangely quiet. “She needs more help than I can give her, and you are the best doctor I have ever known.”

Angela felt her heart attempt to leap from her chest. She felt her breath catch in her throat. Just as quickly, she forced her thoughts back into the same path they usually took.. “I'm just as disinterested in helping Helix as I am getting involved with whatever other special projects you have going on. As you said, I am a doctor. Nothing more. Not anymore.”

“That's what she needs, Angela. A doctor. This has nothing to do with Helix. I'm not even certain Helix isn't going to discharge her, I...I imagine they will. And I don't know how she will survive that. That's why I'm here. And I'll beg if the need arises.”

“Ana Amari doesn't beg.” Angela responded softly. “Unless more has changed than I thought.” 

Ana gathered her thoughts for a moment as she looked around the field-office Angela was working from. “She took a blast for her unit.” Ana finally said - her voice a little too even. A little too poised. “There were no casualties. She lost her left leg above her knee.”

Angela felt a little sick. The emotion bordered on devastation, really. But she didn’t let it show.

That hadn't been the easiest thing to hear, and the impact of it had her fiddling with the edge of the file she'd been using as a distraction since the moment Ana had walked in.

“Helix should pay for a prosthesis. I don't see any reason why this should end her career.” Angela observed, albeit quietly.

“Helix doesn't have the resources at this moment in time to pay for intelligent augmentations, and without a knee - a prosthetic won't do much good. Hell, Angela, I don't know that it would've been enough even if they had saved it. As heavy as Raptora is...I just don't think she would ever fly, again. And I think that might kill her. I know that you do have the resources. The connections. Or I wouldn't be here.”

Angela stayed quiet again - a little divot between her brows making itself known before she pressed her thumb and forefinger against either of her own temples.

Ana moved closer to her desk and silently placed an old weathered photo right where Angela’s eyes were focused. 

It was perhaps Ana’s favorite photo. Fareeha had been so young.

So had Angela.

They'd all been young.

“Do you remember this?” Ana questioned quietly. “All she ever wanted was to be one of us. All she has ever wanted to do was protect those that can't protect themselves. Helix was the closest she could come to that. And now that's gone, too.”

Ana’s gloved fingertips traced over the photo, drawing Angela’s attention from a much younger, happier version of herself to Fareeha looking as proud as she could to be standing with Overwatch. Yes. Angela remembered this girl. Ana just didn’t know that she remembered the woman Fareeha had become much more vividly. And then, the photo was pulled away and tucked back into a hidden pocket of Ana’s jacket. 

“Please.” 

Angela’s eyes flashed up at Ana then. At the desperate look on her face.

“Angela...I've done so much wrong in her life. I've made so many mistakes. She doesn't want to live this way. She doesn't deserve to.” 

Angela swallowed thickly and nodded as she stood and tapped her fingers against her desk. “Okay.”

Ana stared at Angela for a long while without really realizing it. So long, in fact, that Angela began speaking again.

“I'll obtain her physician’s information and her records in the morning and start from there. I'll likely consult with Lindholm if that sounds agreeable to you.”

More silence. And then a quiet, slightly raspy ‘yes’ from Ana. 

Angela watched as discomfort became the primary aspect of Ana’s presence, and she sat back down at her desk in response. “I'll take care of her, Ana. Run off, now. You are quite good at it, after all.”

“You're one to talk, Dr. Ziegler.”

“Am I?” Angela asked with an arched brow and a sharp, accusatory look that made Ana avert her gaze. 

“I should go.” Ana responded simply.

Angela was inclined to agree.

But she didn't miss the barely audible ‘thank you’ that slipped from Ana’s lips as she left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<~~~~~~~

“I said I don't want it.” Fareeha’s voice was low as the nearby nurse frowned and offered her the little paper cup again.

“Captain Amari...you aren't going to be able to make any progress off your medication. You're a smart woman. You know this.”

The nurse flipped on the light that Fareeha left off most nights, now - and Fareeha winced visibly.

She looked awful. She felt awful.

And she'd been refusing pain medication since the prior morning. She'd begun to hate the way it made her feel. At least when she was in pain, she had something to focus on. In the haze that came with the medications, her thoughts often wandered to dark places, now. 

“I'm afraid we’re going to have to get you set back up on your IV, then.” The nurse said quietly.

“No.”

The paper cup was placed on the table, and Fareeha had still never looked at the woman. She was still staring straight ahead at absolutely nothing. 

The nurse returned with help a few minutes later.

And Fareeha lost any and all control over her will in her panic.

It was difficult to move away from them. From the threat of the IV and of the terrible things that would come with it. But she managed. She was still strong. Incredibly so. And while she didn't hurt either of them, she did manage to struggle her way off the bed where she landed on the floor with a rather heavy-sounding ‘thud’ that drove the breath from her lungs.

One of the nurses ran from the room at her partner’s urging for her to fetch the charge nurse and some restraints.

“That won't be necessary, nurse. I assure you.”

Angela’s voice was steady and even as she spoke, stepping towards the doorway in the darkened corridor to be met with a rather confused expression and eyes that dropped to her medical ID badge. 

“I...I'm sorry, Doctor. What department are you from? I don't recognize your name.”

Angela glanced towards the doorway of the room where she heard Fareeha demanding that the remaining nurse stop trying to help her up. 

“Fetch your charge nurse if need be.” She responded simply, keeping any and all emotion out of her voice despite how difficult it was right then. “Your admin likely hasn't reviewed Ms. Amari’s transfer paperwork yet, but I assure you she is under my care now.” 

Her eyes settled back on the nurse, then. “Understood?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

It was true.

Fareeha had been transferred into Angela’s care. Technically.

There had been some clever wording and Angela, herself, had created no small amount of red tape to make any real digging all but impossible. 

That didn't mean she wasn't very accustomed to carrying herself the way she was right now. Beyond reproach. Professional to a fault.

And extremely convincing.

Enough so that even the secondary nurse finally stopped his attempts at getting Fareeha to the bed.

Fareeha, who was so exhausted by the time Angela shut the door of her room and made her way over to her - the situation was almost lost on her. 

“Fareeha.”

Her half-lidded eyes turned up towards Angela and tried to focus. Her dark brow furrowed in confusion. 

She knew that voice.

She knew that face.

“Fareeha, would you like to get back into bed of your own accord? Or do you need me to assist you? You need your rest either way. You're leaving in the morning.” 

“...Angela?” Fareeha asked in a rather hoarse voice, and Angela offered her a soft smile as she reached out to give the younger woman’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “How?”

“That's not important.” Angela responded quietly, placing her bag down near Fareeha and leaning in to hook an arm around her. “Up. You can't stay on the floor.”

There was no argument from Fareeha then.

Nor was there any argument as Angela’s bag was opened and an array of equipment produced.

Fareeha watched quietly as Angela got to work on her monitors - reading over each display and holo screen so quickly that Fareeha couldn't understand how she was even comprehending any of it. 

Then, Angela’s hand was taking her own - her sharp eyes were examining the slight bruising around the detached IV there. “Modern medicine is so barbaric.” Angela whispered idly as she pulled a small vial of something gold and glowing from the tray she'd set up nearby.

It was quickly injected, and the warmth that spread through Fareeha’s veins was overwhelming at first. And then she felt something strange in the area of her left thigh.

Strange enough that her pulse on the monitor nearly began setting off alerts before Angela gave her hand a gentle squeeze when she set the empty syringe aside.

“Breathe slowly.” Angela said as she leaned over Fareeha and silenced the monitor before it could go off. 

“That's it.” She continued as Fareeha gripped her hand tightly. “In. And out.”

Before Fareeha knew it, there wasn't any pain. For the first time, there wasn't any pain.

Not in the various still-healing injuries to various tendons and muscles. Not even beneath the heavy bandage around her thigh. 

Nor was there any fog or confusion or sickness.

As if sensing Fareeha’s confusion, Angela dragged the nearest chair over so that she could sit very near to the bed and begin to explain. “I don't need my armor to do what it is that I do. Normally, I would have left it. It's much easier to do augmentations when things haven't already fully healed and your brain still knows the proper signals to send. But you've already healed enough that it won't make much difference.” 

“I still don't understand.” Fareeha whispered, and Angela frowned softly.

“I intend to help you.” She explained simply. “Assuming that you would like to walk again without aid. To fly again. Your mother came to me and...well. Here I am. And I would like to make this right no matter how long it takes.”

“I haven't seen you in years.” Fareeha breathed, reaching again for Angela’s hand in her rather dazed state of shock.

Angela took it into her own easily. “Your mother had her reasons to keep you at a distance.”

“How did that work out for me?” Fareeha’s voice held none of the bite that it could have, then.

“I am sure your mother is having some thoughts regarding hindsight right now.” Angela said. “But that can't be undone. Right now, you just need to rest. As I said, we leave in the morning. You'll be staying with me for the duration of your treatment or, more specifically, until we've finished developing your technology - and until you've acclimated to it after it's implementation.”

“Why are you doing this?” Fareeha asked as her head rolled so that she could look at Angela who, she suddenly realized, looked every bit as tired as she, herself, felt. 

“Because.” Angela began with a lift of her brow. “Well. I've asked myself that, as well. About many things, this included. I think your mother believes it was the photo she showed me of the two of us with the team when we were young. Your mother doesn't know that we...that I…”

“It was only one time, Angela.” Fareeha responded, suddenly feeling an overwhelming desire to push any and all guilt out of Angela’s mind. “You don't owe me anything.” 

“I never called you. I never came back to check on you again. And now…”

“We both made a choice.” Fareeha murmured quietly. “We were both offering something that was more than welcome at the time. That's all it was. And it has nothing to do with this.” Fareeha gestured towards where her leg should have been, and Angela nodded faintly. 

“Let me see.” She said in a gentle tone after a long span of silence fell upon them. 

Fareeha’s hesitation was plain as day. She'd seen Angela so rarely. So few times.

Once when they were too young for it to mean anything.

Once after the supposed ‘death’ of her mother. A night that had ended in questionable decisions and awkward, apologetic goodbyes. 

And now.

“Fareeha, I'm your doctor.” Angela said as she placed a hand against the other woman’s arm. “You'll need to remember that.” 

Angela stood then and adjusted Fareeha’s pillows behind her head as she moved to sit up. Her eyes traced over the bandaging and she reached quickly for gloves and a pair of snips to get it out of the way. 

Fareeha, herself, was scared to look despite the passive expression on Angela’s face as she worked.

But she risked it after a while, and was shocked to find everything...entirely healed. Which would explain the fact that she wasn't in any pain for the first time since the blast.

“I'll remove these stitches tomorrow when we get to where we’re going tomorrow. They'll start itching like mad now that you're healed.” Angela said quietly, and Fareeha nodded faintly as Angela worked quickly to clean away any remaining stains from Fareeha’s skin before she rebandaged her to keep what she'd done here away from prying eyes.

Because she was Dr. Ziegler now. Not some would-be, world-saving hero. Not Mercy. And the last thing she needed was to have someone questioning how this had happened.

Fareeha looked away while she worked. She swallowed thickly against the uncomfortable feelings, both emotionally and physically.

But when Angela looked up at her as she finished and removed her gloves, she almost let her own mask slip. Angela didn't have to know Fareeha any better than she already did to recognize pain. No, Angela was well-accustomed to seeing that by now.

Even when the person was trying desperately to hide it.

“Fareeha…” Angela murmured with a faint frown as she reached out almost as though to run a hand through Fareeha’s hair.

“Don't.” Fareeha whispered quietly as she brushed Angela’s hand away before she got too close. “It hasn't been properly washed in so long.”

“I don't mind.” Angela responded. “But I shouldn't have assumed it was okay to act so familiar with you. I apologize.” 

“Don't apologize.” Fareeha breathed as she settled back down in bed. It was strange to feel almost comfortable for the first time. Almost. In a disconcerting way that was almost overwhelming. 

“I haven't ever wanted to give up before.” She continued quietly. “I can't describe this feeling.”

“Fareeha, have you spoken with anyone?” Angela asked as she found her place in that bedside chair again. 

“No. That might have hurt my chances of being reinstated.” Fareeha answered simply before gesturing to a packet of paperwork on her bedside table.

Angela glanced over at them. ‘Official notice of discharge’.

“But it doesn't matter anymore.” 

“It matters.” Angela corrected her. “Very much. And you can talk to me. I choose what I do and do not keep note of, and I'll be sure your records remain spotless.”

Fareeha’s dark eyes flashed in Angela’s direction. “Why?”

“Because you don't deserve this.” 

“You barely know me.” Fareeha countered, her voice subdued and soft. 

“I’ve seen your records. I know where the medals you earned come from. And I’m well aware of my own...qualms with things like that. But _no one_ deserves this.” Angela sighed softly and leaned onto one arm of the chair she was sitting in. “And I know the side of you that I was privy to the last time we met…” 

Fareeha drew in a slow, deep breath and glanced at Angela’s hand where it rested so near to her own on the bed. 

“I’m not her, anymore.” 

“You are.” Angela responded without hesitation. “I promise that you are. And that I’m going to make this right.” 

Fareeha’s eyes slipped shut, and not for the first time - Angela watched a tear streak down over the tattoo beneath her eye. But this time, Fareeha caught it herself. Quickly. 

This wasn’t the same emotion as before. As when Fareeha had thought she’d lost her mother. 

This was different. It was so subdued. So well-kept and locked away. And so soon…

“Rest.” Angela said quietly, reaching to pull the sheets up to Fareeha’s chest until she was turning onto her stomach with a little effort. Everything took effort, now. That was something Fareeha hadn’t even begun to get used to. 

“You’ll be in a more comfortable bed by tomorrow evening.” Angela continued. “And I’ll be here all night. I don’t need any nurses doing rounds in here until we leave in the morning.” 

“You can sleep.” Fareeha murmured into her pillow. “I’ll hear if someone comes. You look exhausted.” 

“Stop trying so hard to take care of me.” Angela whispered, having a difficult time keeping her own tears at bay now that Fareeha wasn’t looking at her. “That’s my job right now.” 

Fareeha murmured something in response. She was already half asleep, yet she couldn’t seem to get herself all the way there. 

So Angela reached out hesitantly for a moment before stroking across her broad shoulders through the undershirt she was wearing. “How long were you in the field when this happened?” 

“Three months.” Fareeha whispered, turning her head so she could look at Angela, her eyes half-lidded. 

“A long time.” Angela observed softly. “What’s the first thing you want to eat tomorrow night that isn’t ration or hospital food?” 

“A disgustingly greasy burger. Pepper Jack cheese. Extra fries.” 

“There’s a good burger place near the place I’m staying. As much as it pains me as a physician to say this, I think I can make an exception.” 

Angela’s ruse had worked. She realized that when she received no response and Fareeha’s back began shifting more shallowly and evenly beneath her hand. 

True to her word, she stayed there all night. Awake, of course. Listening carefully for footsteps outside. 

Watching Fareeha just as carefully. For any sign of discomfort. 

She just needed some coffee, really. And she could get that at the airport. Best to not push her luck here at the hospital any more than she already had. 

She could sleep tomorrow night. 

When she knew Fareeha was safe and, hopefully, in a slightly better place emotionally. 

But these few hours gave her so much time to think. 

Mostly about how thankful she was that she had this chance. ...And how angry with herself she was for never calling. For never writing. 

For spending the night with this woman utterly lost in shared grief and in each other and then leaving. 

Because she always had something important to attend to. Because Fareeha was so utterly different from her that it could never have been more than it was.

Yet here she was. 

Slowly removing her hand from Fareeha’s back after realizing it had been there for far too long.


	3. Chapter 3

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161614435@N03/49811920491/in/dateposted-public/)

A week. 

They’d been doing this for a week now. 

Angela would stay up into the wee hours of the morning working away at her desk on designs and readings and test results. 

Fareeha would fall asleep on the couch. 

It was a routine for them both, really. 

Angela didn’t mind the company while she worked - even if said company was sleeping. 

And Fareeha found the nightmares less frequent when Angela was in the room. 

Angela suspected this might be a factor in Pharah’s sleeping habits, but she didn’t mention it. She didn’t even push Fareeha to go to the guest bedroom anymore when she started nodding off. 

Tonight was no different than all the others had been. At least not until Angela was startled awake by a groan from Fareeha’s direction across the darkened living room. 

Fuck, she hadn’t meant to fall asleep at her desk. She could already tell by the slight twinge in her neck that she was going to regret it in the morning. 

But any regret or lingering agitation faded quickly when a shuddering breath from Fareeha followed that groan. 

Angela got up as quickly as she could without making enough noise to wake the woman sleeping on her sofa and made her way across the room - retreating from the blue glow of the holo-screens she’d been working in front of for far too many hours and towards the softness of the moonlight that illuminated the rest of her living room. It fell even softer across Fareeha. 

It didn’t take long to realize one of those nightmares had made it through their combined defenses. There was enough light in the room for Angela to see the faint sheen of sweat across Fareeha’s brow, and since she’d fully healed her at the hospital - she knew it wasn’t the result of a fever. 

Small blessings. 

Angela’s stiff joints complained as she knelt down next to the sofa and reached for the blanket Fareeha had managed to toss off of herself. 

She was prepared for the way Fareeha jerked awake almost violently, and her voice was gentle in response to the panicked gasp that met her ears. 

“It’s a dream, Fareeha. You’re right here with me. It’s only a dream.” 

Angela’s hand had found Fareeha’s when it reached reflexively for her own. 

She’d twined their fingers together tightly like she had every other time. She didn’t question whether it was appropriate. She didn’t worry that there were any lines being crossed.

Those had already been crossed a long time ago. There wasn’t any use in dwelling on it, now. 

“I’m sorry.” Fareeha’s voice was slightly raspy with sleep as her chest rose and fell rapidly in those first few moments. “You were probably working.” 

Angela smiled. A little half-smile that was followed by a shake of her head as she fixed Fareeha’s blanket and placed her hand over her stomach when she seemed ready to let go. “I fell asleep at my desk. You didn’t interrupt anything.” 

Fareeha let out a quiet sigh of relief in response and glanced down at the way Angela’s hand fit into hers. It wasn't until then that she realized her own hand was still shaking - if only slightly. She pulled it away slowly to tuck it back under the blanket she'd been covered with some time during the night. 

“What did you dream, Fareeha?” Angela asked softly as she lowered herself to the floor next to the couch a little stiffly, not taking any offense to the other woman pulling away like she had. 

“You should probably get some sleep,” Fareeha responded simply. Her throat hurt as the words passed through it. Her voice even threatened to tremble.

It was so difficult to be as hard as she needed to be in the softness of Angela’s presence. It was so fucking hard.

“I will when I'm ready.” Angela countered, drawing a questioning look from Fareeha in response. 

“You don't have to work yourself to death, Ange. I don't know why you're trying to,” Fareeha found it easier to focus on anything that wasn't herself, these days. 

“The sooner I finish my work, the sooner you'll be relatively okay. I'm no slouch in the field of psychology, you know. And I know the helplessness you're feeling right now isn't doing anything for your nightmares.” 

A span of silence passed between them, then. One that lasted long enough for sleep to begin clouding Fareeha’s already muddled thoughts. 

“Let’s get you to bed.” Angela offered as she pushed herself up and offered Fareeha a hand. 

Fareeha was wide awake suddenly, though she tried not to look alarmed at the thought of sleeping alone. She was rather stuck, really. Either tell Angela the real reason she slept on the sofa every night, or get up and go to bed. Alone. 

She chose the latter. 

“Can I have my-”

“Here.” Angela was already holding the crutches that had been laying on the floor beside the couch. Holding them steady while Fareeha used them to stand. 

Angela stood close while Fareeha got herself balanced. She still wasn't exactly adept at walking with them. 

But Angela didn't want her in a prosthetic. She needed all the muscle memory there. Not changed and adapted to another way of movement, entirely.

Fareeha was thankful for that, really. It helped to make this seem more temporary. 

An unintended side-effect was the fire it drove into Angela to keep working herself until she had nothing left. Watching Fareeha have to try so hard to move through the apartment was...more than enough motivation, even if there hadn't been a single other reason. 

But she didn't let her eyes linger. She just walked in front of a Fareeha to make sure the path was clear until Fareeha was finally plopping down onto the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh. 

Angela took her crutches from her and rested them against the bedside table silently, frowning when she noticed the glass of water that was always left there was now empty. 

“I’ll get you more water.” She said quietly as she reached for the glass. “Do you need anything else? Are you hungry?” 

“Don’t.” She responded just as softly. “Don’t wait on me like that. I can’t stand it.” 

Angela looked at Fareeha for a moment longer before she averted her attention to the empty glass in her hand. 

“It’s only a couple more weeks until we have the device finished. Can you just let me help you until then? You’re my patient, Fareeha. This is my job. I need to take care of you.” 

Fareeha was quiet a while longer before she pushed herself further back onto the bed and reached to knead her thigh as she winced. 

It was healed, of course. Everything was. Angela had seen to that when they were still in the hospital.

But there was little to be done about the phantom pains. 

And Angela hated things that she couldn’t fix. She looked visibly contrite the next time Fareeha looked up at her. 

“Is that why, Angela?” She asked as she pulled the nearest blanket over her lap. “Is it because I’m your patient, or is it guilt? Because I see the way you look at me sometimes and I need to understand it.” 

“I suppose we should address the elephant in the room, yes.” Angela agreed after her jaw clenched and she looked away for a moment in thought. “I need a drink, first. Still water, for you?” 

“I...I’ll take a beer, actually.” 

“I can do that.” Angela knew Fareeha enjoyed a beer now and then. She’d stocked the fridge for just that reason more than once since Fareeha’s arrival. In fact, she brought one back to the room for both of them. She preferred darker lagers. Fareeha preferred amber ale. 

In Angela’s absence, Fareeha had stayed put - focused mostly on staying awake enough for whatever conversation they were about to have. She didn’t know whether or not to dread it, but Angela didn’t look particularly pensive as she passed Fareeha her beer and sat next to her, so maybe it wasn’t going to be terrible. 

“So,” Angela began as she looked down at the dark bottle in her hand. “You're wondering why I'm doing this, and I'm guessing the reason for that is the fact that we slept together and I completely disappeared from your life afterwards.”

Fareeha’s eyes widened. She hadn't realized it was the obvious, really. “I just...I don't know. I hate pity. I hate the thought that you're feeling sorry for me.”

“I don't feel sorry for you, Fareeha. And I'm not doing this because I feel guilty, though I do. If I'm being entirely honest, I very much wanted to call you. I very much wish I had. I thought about you often after that night. But I didn't feel I could have a place in your life. It would have put you too close to Overwatch. And I was in a place in my life where I was just so utterly conflicted about it all that I truly believed you deserved better than a woman who would sleep with you when you were…”

“I was fine,” Fareeha cut her off quickly. “I wanted to. I understand all those things. I mean, I understand that you felt the way that you did, and that you couldn't feel that way anymore. And that's fine. So thank you for explaining everything to me.”

“What do you mean, ‘anymore’?” Angela asked with a lift of her brow as she finally looked over at Fareeha.

“I mean...look at me,” Fareeha huffed before taking another deep swig of her beer and moving further away from Angela so she could lean back against the headboard. “I wouldn't want me, either. Not that that's what this is about. I just want you to know that it's okay. That it's not something you should feel badly about.”

Angela blinked softly as she looked Fareeha over for a moment before averting her gaze again. “There's nothing undesirable about you,” Angela said quietly. “But you should get some rest.”

Fareeha was silent for a moment. Long enough that Angela stood from the bed and went to refill Fareeha’s water glass. It was a near nightly routine now. She would make sure Fareeha had water. That her crutches were easily accessible. Fareeha would bear it silently. 

Usually, Fareeha was sleeping by the time she was done. Tonight, she was wide awake. Watching Angela all the while until Angela finally made her way towards the bedroom door.

“I'm sorry,” Fareeha finally said just as Angela’s hand met the door knob. “I'm sorry that I didn't call, too. I could've picked up the phone just as easily. I wish I would have, too. I'm sorry that it's too late for all that. But I appreciate what you're doing for me.”

Angela paused where she stood and slowly looked back. Her expression was both intent and unreadable as she looked at Fareeha’s dark, disarming gaze from across the room. 

“Of course,” Angela whispered with a small smile that she hoped would hide everything she was feeling. “Do you need anything?”

Fareeha felt her voice catch in her throat, so she just shook her head in response.

Angela’s hand fell away from the door, and she took a step back towards the bed. “Would you like me to stay until you're asleep?”

“You're tired,” Fareeha responded, avoiding the question entirely. “You've been working yourself to death.”

“I asked if you'd like me to stay,” Angela said again, folding her arms across her stomach and tilting her head to the side. 

Fareeha cleared her throat and set her jaw as she looked down at her hands folded in her own lap. At the toughness of her own palms and the few light-colored scars across her knuckles when she turned them over. 

“It's hard to be alone right now,” Fareeha’s voice seemed so strangely far away. In reality, it was terrifying to be alone. To feel as helpless as she felt. To face the threat of the coming nightmares by herself. 

Angela moved back towards the bed and Fareeha slid down further beneath the covers when Angela reached to adjust the pillows for her. Once she was settled, Angela walked around to the other side to sit with her back against the headboard.

Fareeha was looking at her again. And this time, Angela was looking back as she reached out to touch along the golden ornaments adorning some of Fareeha’s hair. It only took a moment before Angela’s fingers were slowly sifting through dark, impossibly smooth hair. She'd forgotten how it felt. How strong and sleek the strands were as they passed through her fingers. 

Fareeha’s eyes fluttered shut after a while and one of her hands moved to the side so that her knuckles were resting against Angela’s side through her sweater. 

Angela couldn't imagine a world in which Fareeha would be undesirable. That thought passed unbidden through her mind as the moonlight outside filtered through the curtains across Fareeha's sharp, angular features. The curve of her jaw. Her dark brow. The tattoo that adorned her cheek. 

As Angela sat there, she couldn't do much about the memories that flooded her. Memories of rough hands that had more gentleness in them than they had any right to. Memory of words murmured breathlessly against her ear in an accent that made them sound almost like a purr.

The guilt came hard and fast, then.

And it made Angela wonder if she was lying to both of them about it all.

It made Angela wonder if she didn't have some lingering hope spurred on by the idea that perhaps the fact that Fareeha needed her now meant that she could feel as though she deserved a place in her life beyond helping her forget her troubles for a single, life-altering night. 

She hasn't realized the shuddering breath she'd been holding was going to be as loud as it was until it was too late to stop it. Until Fareeha’s eyes had fluttered, but not opened.

Until Fareeha’s hand was shifting beneath the hem of her sweater and resting against her side beneath it. 

“Shit,” Fareeha breathed as she removed it. She was clearly half-asleep. “Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Angela responded, slowly tucking some of Fareeha’s hair behind her ear and brushing the backs of her fingers down her cheek. “Does this bother you?”

“No,” Fareeha sighed and rolled onto her side so that she was facing Angela, making it easier for Angela to reach her as a result. “But you can stop. It's okay.”

“No, I...no. Just be still. Shut your eyes. I'm not going anywhere,” Angela’s voice was low and calming in a way that had Fareeha feeling as though she was melting into the bed. And her hand was still stroking through Fareeha's hair. 

Angela felt overwhelmed, suddenly, with the desire to protect Fareeha. From the dreams. From what had happened on that mission. From the pain she was going through.

From _everything_. 

Strange, to feel so protective over someone so strong. So larger-than-life. 

But then, they'd both done a lot of changing since they last saw each other. 

Angela removed her glasses with her free hand and reached over Fareeha to place them on the bedside table as she got a little more comfortable, because fuck it.

She was already here.

She might as well get some rest while she was at it.

She might as well cradle the back of Fareeha’s head as the other woman moved close enough to her to hide her face against her chest. 

She might as well savor the feeling of Fareeha’s hand moving back beneath her sweater just enough that the tips of her fingers rested against her stomach. 

Fareeha didn't seem inclined to apologize for it this time. She seemed perfectly content to lay there against Angela and to allow her to lull her into the most restful sleep she'd had in recent memory. 

And Angela was perfectly willing to take what she could get and save the regret and awkward silence for the morning. Especially if this closeness was what Fareeha needed right now.

Especially if _she_ was what Fareeha needed right now.


	4. Chapter 4

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161614435@N03/49811920491/in/dateposted-public/)

Fareeha's eyes opened slowly. Gradually. As gradually as the realization came upon her that there was something soft and warm laying against her. The realization that that something was Angela Ziegler. That her head was on her chest and her arm was draped over her.

There was even a little damp spot on the otherwise pristine white undershirt Fareeha was wearing just beneath Angela’s cheek. 

This was the first morning Fareeha had woken up and thought about something other than herself and what she'd lost. How could she think about that, really, when Angela looked so peaceful draped against her the way she was. Getting some halfway decent sleep for once. 

Fareeha would've laid there like that for longer than she cared to admit. As it was, she risked lifting a hand and gently brushing her fingertips through Angela’s bangs. 

It reminded her of that morning. The morning she'd woken up and watched the sun rise against Angela’s skin the way it was right now. It reminded her of a time when she'd felt whole and strong.

She realized, suddenly, that she felt strong right now. Something about the way Angela was curled against her and how small her face seemed as Fareeha splayed the tips of her fingers out against her cheek. 

That's when Angela finally stirred. That's when her hand reflexively found Fareeha’s side and stroked along it as she groaned quietly and began to sit up.

“Don't go,” Fareeha whispered as her hand slid slowly to the back of Angela's neck. “Please.”

Angela’s eyes flashed up to meet Fareeha’s and she faltered for a moment before lowering her head back down - on Fareeha’s shoulder this time instead of her chest. “I drooled on you,” she observed quietly. “That's embarrassing.” 

“It's cute,” Fareeha countered, and for the first time - Angela realized she sounded a little breathless. 

“Are you okay?” Angela asked as her brow knitted in concern. 

“I'm fine,” Fareeha murmured, guiding Angela’s hand away from where it had fallen to touch just above her hip. 

“I'm sorry,” Angela whispered, barely managing to stop from cursing herself. “It all just felt so familiar.”

“It does,” Fareeha agreed. “And I'm fine. I just...well. It's been…” Fareeha sighed in frustration and then fell silent again as Angela propped herself up on one of her elbows.

“Did you feel better this morning?” Angela asked, rescuing Fareeha from the awkwardness she seemed to be feeling.

“Yes,” Fareeha murmured, risking a touch along Angela’s jaw with the side of her thumb. “I forgot for a moment.” 

“What did you forget?” Angela asked as Fareeha’s thumb trailed high enough to graze her lower lip as she spoke. 

“How fucked up I am,” Fareeha whispered, watching intently as Angela tilted her head just a hair. Just enough to kiss the pad of her thumb. 

“You aren't fucked up, Fareeha,” Angela countered quietly, reaching for Fareeha’s hand and holding it against her cheek. “No more than I am. No more than anyone else is.” 

Even as fast as her heart and her thoughts were racing, Angela didn't miss the questioning way in which Fareeha was tugging at her shirt. Imploring. Hesitant. 

“You can touch me,” Angela offered as she stroked down along Fareeha’s arm with the tips of her fingers. “However you'd like to. It's okay.” 

Fareeha exhaled - a deep, trembling breath that sounded almost painful. 

“Will you shut the blinds?” Fareeha asked without looking at her. As though looking at her would give away the insecurities. The fears.

Angela got up wordlessly and moved across the room to reach beyond the curtains and roll them down so that the room was blanketed in soft darkness. Still light enough to see, but only just. Her hands trembled faintly as she rested them against the window sill. 

“You don't have to do this,” Fareeha said quietly from the bed, and Angela listened to the sheets rustle as she pushed herself up against the headboard. “I'm sorry if I made you feel-”

Fareeha trailed off, her lips still parted in response to the sight of Angela tugging her sweater over her head and letting it fall to the floor, leaving her in just her leggings and a dark, nondescript bra. 

“You don't have to do this, either,” Angela responded as she watched Fareeha push herself further up until she was leaned against the headboard. “But I can't stand the thought of you hurting. I can't stand the sight of it. The feel of it. And I can't stand the thought of having you here and not doing anything about it after the way I left things.”

“It doesn't bother you?” Fareeha asked as Angela approached the bed. “This?” She gestured vaguely towards the sheets. Angela didn't need any clarification as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled her leggings down, her slender back and it's sparse freckles exposed to Fareeha. 

“No,” She responded simply, despite the fact that she'd undressed herself specifically because of that unspoken reference. “No, of course, it doesn't bother me.” 

Fareeha reached out to touch along Angela's back just to feel the softness of her skin. She'd never felt anything so soft. She'd felt that way the first time, and she felt that way still. 

“Why?” Fareeha asked as Angela’s eyes shut for a moment while Fareeha traced the line of her spine. “Why doesn't it bother you?”

“It just doesn't,” Angela said as she finally turned to face Fareeha. “I promise you that it doesn't.” 

Fareeha’s hand had shifted while Angela turned. Her fingertips were reaching along Angela’s stomach, now. Grazing the waistline of her underwear. 

“It's been a while,” Fareeha admitted quietly. 

“I'm willing to wager it's been longer for me,” Angela countered with a weak laugh. 

Fareeha was touching along the underside of her bra, now, and Angela gave her forearm a gentle, encouraging squeeze.

“How long?” Fareeha asked, and Angela noticed a slight rasp to her voice, now. 

“Doesn't matter,” Angela murmured, her breath catching in her throat as Fareeha wrapped a hand around her upper arm to guide her closer. 

Angela straddled her lap carefully - only settling down against her once she was sure she'd positioned herself properly. She didn't want to give Fareeha any reminders. That was the very last thing she wanted to do right then. 

“You're right,” Fareeha’s response was quiet as her hands found the curve of Angela’s ass and rose slowly to the small of her back. 

“Do you know what I thought of more than almost anything else?” Angela asked as she pushed Fareeha’s hair back from her face and then cradled either side of it in her hands.

“Mm?”

“How soft your lips are,” Angela whispered with a barely-there smile as her eyes fell away from the intensity of Fareeha’s gaze. 

“Kiss me,” Fareeha murmured earnestly, and Angela leaned in almost immediately.

There was a moment of hesitation, however, just before their lips touched. Just long enough for Angela to touch across Fareeha’s lips with her fingertips as she felt the faint bite of Fareeha’s nails against her back.

And then a sharp inhale from Fareeha when the tips of their noses brushed. An inhale that drew Angela's and had her finally giving in.

It took Fareeha just a moment to respond. Like she'd been almost shocked it'd happened. But when she did, she recovered quickly. And then it was as though she were trying to make up for those lost seconds as she pressed into the kiss so hard Angela nearly pulled back before she settled into the roughness and the desperation of it.

And as quickly as Fareeha forgot herself, she remembered. The kiss became shallow and Fareeha’s tongue was gentle in its soft exploration even as their breaths came hard and sharp. Even as Fareeha’s hands undid the clasp of Angela’s bra and slipped it out of the way so that her hands could find her breasts, unhindered.

Angela’s resulting moan had Fareeha breaking their kiss and burying her face in the crook of her neck as her hands kneaded Angela’s breasts just hard enough that Angela leaned over her and groaned under her breath. 

Her hands fell to Fareeha’s shoulders then to find them painfully tense beneath her touch. Like a clock wound too tightly.

“Talk to me, Fareeha,” Angela breathed as she covered Fareeha’s hands with her own over her own breasts. “Please.”

“Lay down for me,” Fareeha husked just beneath Angela’s ear.

Angela had no doubt if things had been different she likely would've already been on her back - pushed or flipped there in one strong, effortless movement.

But this was their reality. And Angela was more than fine with that. 

She removed herself from Fareeha’s lap and moved next to her - propping herself on the pillows and glancing over as Fareeha tugged her own shirt up and over her head.

This, at least, was something Fareeha still had utter confidence in. Her broad shoulders and her strong arms and the subtle cuts of muscle in her stomach all on proud display as she tossed her shirt aside and shifted where she sat.

Angela could almost see the cogs in her mind spinning a million miles a minute. No doubt about how she could do this in a way that Angela would find attractive or alluring.

Angela reached out, then, and stroked soothingly along her thigh. 

The gesture was grounding and gentle and Fareeha drew in a breath before she moved over Angela - still half tangled in the sheets and leaning her weight on her good leg as she pressed a quick kiss against Angela’s lips.

There were so many things Fareeha hadn't even considered. Like how difficult it was right now to balance herself over Angela. Or how it was impossible to do much more than pull her underwear down past her hips.

But just as frustration began warring strongly with the lust fogging her mind, Angela’s hands were working with her own and they were down her legs and out of the way quickly. 

And then Angela was pulling her down with her arms around her back - her legs spread wide enough for Fareeha to settle comfortably between them. 

“Okay?” Angela asked as she stroked over Fareeha’s shoulders and down her back slowly. 

“Yeah,” Fareeha responded in a breathless voice that ghosted warm breath against Angela’s collarbone. “I'd forgotten how beautiful you are.” She continued as she adjusted herself so her lower half was resting on one hip. Just a subtle movement that made everything so much easier, suddenly. A movement that allowed her enough room to see the pale skin of Angela’s chest and the slender softness of her stomach as it tensed with breaths that were rapid, yet trying not to be. 

“I would say the same if I'd forgotten at all,” Angela responded without really having to think first. “You're like something from another world. Still. I hope you know that.” 

“What about me?” Fareeha asked, leaving a teasing trail of warmth with her fingertips from the inside of Angela’s knee to the apex of her thighs. 

“As though you don't know,” Angela gasped when the backs of Fareeha’s knuckles grazed the wetness that was just short of dripping down the cleft of her ass. 

Fareeha smiled for the first time then. 

“Remind me, anyway.”

“Your voice,” Angela began easily - spreading her legs wider and choking back a whimper when those fingers grazed her again. “Your hands,” she continued as she shifted her hips towards Fareeha’s hand when it pulled a little too far back for her liking. “The callouses. The strength. Your eyes. The darkness of them. How easy it is to get lost in them.”

Fareeha’s thumb finally grazed her clit, and Angela’s head fell back as her hips jerked subtly. “Your...your skin…” she whispered, struggling to get the words out. “I don't know how anyone could look at it without wanting to touch it, Fareeha please. _Please_.” 

That ‘please’ did more for Fareeha than she could've ever prepared herself for. It drove any other thought or misgiving from her mind and left only Angela. Only an overwhelming drive to please her and draw more of those quiet, breathless gasps from her lips. 

Angela’s eyes fluttered open and her breath caught in her throat as Fareeha’s fingertips slid against her - just barely skirting against her clit before they circled her slick, aching core. Only a time or two, though. Only enough to gather some wetness to make it easier to slip into her. Her eyes stayed trained steadily on Angela’s expression all the while. They shared a few trembling, shallow breaths as Angela fought to keep her eyes open just so she could enjoy the intensity of Fareeha’s expression. Just so she could commit every moment to memory. Again. 

Fareeha’s lips were still parted when Angela ran her trembling thumb across them and slowly slid her fingers into her hair to give it a gentle tug. 

“You feel so good,” she whispered as she tried to steady her breathing with little success. 

Fareeha murmured something appreciative and unintelligible as she pressed a second finger in beside the first and worked them slowly against the resistance they met when Angela tightened around them.

As much as she didn't want to look away from the blue of Angela’s eyes, she finally lowered her head as she shifted further down the bed and left a trail of kisses down her stomach. It wasn't as smooth and easy as Fareeha would've liked, but Angela was tending beneath her and tightening her grip on her hair nonetheless by the time her warm, quick breaths were ghosting against her clit.

Angela gave up keeping herself propped up when Fareeha’s tongue first slid against her - all velvet and wetness and heat. She was already so close. Fareeha knew just the way to curl her fingers. Just the way to cradle her clit in the softness of her lips so she could suck against it in time with her hand moving beneath her chin. 

The soft moans that came out muffled against her weren't doing much to prolong it, either. 

But Fareeha couldn't help it. She couldn't help how overwhelming it was to be able to make someone feel this way, or for that someone to be Angela when she'd long ago accepted this would never be a thing. But this was real. Angela’s hands against her shoulders and the sides of her face and in her hair were real. The flexing of her thighs and the arching of her back and her whispered pleas were very, very real.

“I'm...Fareeha...I…” 

Fareeha only pressed in harder with her mouth and exhaled sharply through her nose, and Angela grasped almost frantically for her free hand with her own. By the time Fareeha twined their fingers together, Angela was coming with a series of long, shuddering, muffled groans. 

A curse or two that Fareeha wasn't familiar with fell from Angela’s lips as she finally pulled back to catch her breath, and when she looked up she couldn't help the slight swell of pride she felt in response to the sight of Angela’s chest heaving as one of her hands clasped her own breast. Among other, much filthier feelings.

“Come here,” Angela managed to whisper after a moment, reaching as far as she could down Fareeha’s chest from where she was laying. Despite the hiss even the scant attention she managed to give Fareeha in this position, Fareeha didn't move.

“I'm okay,” Fareeha murmured, sounding decidedly not-okay. 

Angela focused her vision and looked down at her then, frowning as a furrow formed between her brows as she wiped Fareeha’s glistening lips gently. “But you aren't,” she countered quietly, and Fareeha lowered her head until her cheek was resting against Angela’s stomach.

“I don't…” Fareeha trailed off before even finishing her thought as Angela splayed her fingers against the back of her head. 

“What would you be comfortable with?” Angela asked quietly. “All I want is to make you feel good. I promise.”

“I know,” Fareeha sighed before rolling onto her back next to Angela.

Angela looked over at her as she lifted her good leg so that the sheets were tended over her lower half. 

“You're gorgeous,” Angela breathed with a faint shake of her head as she turned onto her side next to Fareeha and reached out to run her hand along tense abs that led to the cuts of muscle over her hips. 

“Is this okay?” Angela asked as her hand trailed a little lower - dipping just beneath the sheets to touch along the waistband of her sweatpants. 

It was, much to Fareeha's surprise. Probably because Angela didn't seem inclined to move the sheets away or touch…

“Yes,” Fareeha murmured, turning her head to find Angela’s eyes had focused on her face instead of her body. 

Angela shifted closer. Close enough that the tips of their noses were nearly touching when she finally pressed her hand beneath those pants and lower still, until her fingertips brushed against coarse hair. 

“I haven't shaved...it's hard to-”

“Shh, it's okay, I don't care about that,” Angela whispered, tilting her head just enough to brush her lips against Fareeha’s in a quick kiss. “It's okay. Look at me.” 

Fareeha looked at her. She focused on the soft expression on Angela’s face until she drew in a sharp breath when Angela’s fingertips found her throbbing clit. Only then did Fareeha wrap her hand around Angela’s arm tightly - keeping her close. She held on so hard it almost hurt. As though she'd forgotten her own strength.

Angela didn't falter. She kept circling Fareeha’s clit as her hips rocked faintly against her hand. 

She didn't speak again until Fareeha’s eyes fell shut tightly.

“I just want you to come for me,” Angela gasped out under her breath as Fareeha’s nails bit into the skin of her arm. “That's all I want.”

“I'm close,” That was all Fareeha managed to get out as Angela leaned further in and pressed a kiss to her brow. Yet a few more moments passed of Fareeha straining against her and against the bed, and Angela finally looked down to see her jaw clenched and a sheen of sweat across her forehead. 

It nearly broke Angela’s heart to see her trying so hard.

She wracked her memory for reasons why. Had Fareeha dug both her heels into the bed before? Had she tensed both her thighs? She couldn't remember, suddenly. She could barely think past the burning in her arm.

But she managed, somehow.

“You fucked me so well, Fareeha” Angela breathed into Fareeha’s hair. “Nobody has ever made me come the way you do. You have no idea how many times I touched myself thinking about it. About you. And you were even better just now. Your hands...your mouth…”

“Fuck!” 

It was almost violent when Fareeha came. As violent as it was sudden and unexpected. She jerked and tensed as Angela went limp against her and dragged a series of much-needed breaths into her burning lungs. 

A silence fell over them for a while that was only filled with their ragged breathing. Angela had managed to move her hand to Fareeha’s stomach somehow. Fareeha has finally let go of her arm. They were both all but useless - exhausted and sated, at least physically. 

“I can...damn...I'll go get some water and a washcloth,” Angela finally offered, and Fareeha nodded weakly.

She'd managed to sit up by the time Angela got back on slightly shaky legs, yet she didn't look at her as she plopped back down on the bed and handed Fareeha the glass.

“I don't expect anything from you,” Angela finally said when the silence became something she could no longer take. “I'll get to work after I shower.”

“You could rest with me a while,” Fareeha said as she looked down at the cloth in her hand for a moment before biting the bullet and finally laying back to clean herself up. She placed the cloth on the bedside and stared up at the ceiling.

Angela glanced in her direction and reached out to grasp her hand in her own. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do. 

“You could expect something from me, you know,” Fareeha mumbled. “But I get it.” 

Angela’s brows lifted in surprise. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so caught off-guard. 

“No, it's...I didn't…”

“I meant it when I said I get it. I do. Nobody knows better than I do that the last time we were together I was an entirely different person,” Fareeha hadn't pulled her hand away, and Angela was stroking softly across her knuckles with her thumb. 

“We covered that, I think,” Angela began cautiously. “We're both very different. Anyway, as I said - this doesn't have to change anything. I'll finish my work over the next few weeks and you'll be back in the air before you know it. I just want you to know that it could change something. That I wish I had done things differently before because I believe...well, I believe there was something between us. I believe it's still there. But I understand, too. And I want to be clear that this has no affect on what I've agreed to do for you.”

Fareeha let the words wash over her. She let them sink in despite the thickness of her skin and the stubbornness of her thoughts. 

“What if it doesn't work?” Fareeha’s voice was a whisper that only half-hid the hope that had somehow slipped through the darkness that had encompassed her thoughts lately. 

“It will work,” Angela responded simply. “And if it didn't, I would feel the same. You act as though it was your legs I haven't stopped thinking about for years instead of everything else about you.”

It was almost jarring to have everything addressed so directly. Brutally, really.

But it was enough to make Fareeha look at Angela, finally. 

“After this, then?” Fareeha asked, somehow stopping her voice from breaking despite how near she was to shattering.

“We can go our separate ways again. I can know that I didn't just let you go the way I did before. I can know that I didn't throw something to the wind that could have been something great.” Angela sounded matter-of-fact, but Fareeha could swear there was fear in her eyes and in her tone.

“I don't think I want that,” Fareeha said, and Angela’s breath escaped her loudly as she looked away and nodded. 

Fareeha was quick to sit up and reach out to catch a tear as it slipped down Angela’s cheek, and all in one quick motion - Angela was leaning into her arms and Fareeha was holding onto her tightly. 

“I'm sorry,” Angela whispered against Fareeha’s shoulder. “I don't mean to be so emotional. I've been holding that in for a long time.”

“Don't apologize,” Fareeha’s voice was muffled in Angela’s hair. “I thought about you, too. All the time. Especially when I was out there. I swear I've spent every day for as long as I can remember keeping people safe. You let me know how it feels to be kept. I know it was just a night. But I never forgot. I went there so many times. I swear you're the only person in the world who knows that I hurt, too. That I'm scared, too.”

“You can be whatever you need to be with me,” Angela held onto her tighter, then, and Fareeha nodded her understanding.

“Yeah,” she whispered with a weak laugh. “Yeah, that's the part that scared me, I think. The bit where I could just fall apart with you.”

“Are you still scared?” Angela asked as she pulled back and cradled Fareeha’s cheek in her hand.

“I don't know if you're aware, but I was recently greatly humbled,” Fareeha offered Angela a smile that was a strange mixture of pained and chagrined. 

Angela offered a smile of her own in turn. Gentle and adoring and accepting. 

“I'm aware,” Angela sighed and leaned in for a kiss that felt more familiar, suddenly, than anything else ever had before. A kiss that Fareeha steered with a gentle steadiness that Angela was fairly sure one could get drunk from. 

This time, when they laid down together, Fareeha laid facing her, leaned slightly into her front as Angela fixed the covers around them. 

Fareeha was half asleep again rather quickly, but not asked enough not to give voice to some of what she was dealing with. Finally.

“It still hurts sometimes,” 

“Your leg,” Angela offered quietly.

“Mm,”

Angela reached down over the sheets and gripped Fareeha’s hip for a moment before sliding her hand around to the back of her thigh and kneading it just above the place where there wasn't anything left. 

“I know,” Angela whispered, still working at the muscle there - tight with tension that no longer had anywhere to go. “I'm so sorry, Fareeha.”

Fareeha swallowed thickly and let out a series of shuddering breaths that were almost-sobs without any strength behind them. 

Yet the anxiety that had suddenly built into a fever pitch began melting away as quickly as it had come, along with the pain. She hadn't even realized what Angela was doing until she was done. She hadn't even had time to be concerned with where her hand had been. 

“A few more hours sleep,” Angela offered, and Fareeha nodded.

“And you'll tell me the next time it hurts.”

Another nod from Fareeha that Angela rewarded with a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“You'll let me help you.,” it was only a half-question, really.

“Yes,” Fareeha whispered, splaying her fingers against the soft skin of Angela’s stomach and let out what sounded like a relieved sigh. 

Angela didn't push any further. She just let her hand settle against the small of Fareeha’s back and let herself enjoy the scent of the oils she used in her hair. She remembered those, too. Remembered them well enough that she'd found them in Fareeha's things from the hospital and left them out for her in the bathroom. 

“You smell so good,” Angela whispered, now fighting against sleep, herself. “I don't think I ever told you.”

“Tell me again in a few hours,” Fareeha’s voice was barely audible, and her breathing was already evening out.

Angela thought to herself as she drifted off that she would try to remember to tell her as often as she could.


	5. Chapter 5

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161614435@N03/49811920491/in/dateposted-public/)

“Those things will kill you, you know.”

Ana’s voice was grating to Angela’s ears as she exhaled and flicked her cigarette over the balcony she'd been looking over - enjoying the peace of the evening while Fareeha slept soundly inside. 

Enjoying the peace until she'd felt Ana’s presence in the shadows where she so liked to lurk of late. 

“No,” Angela said almost cooly. “No, they won't.”

“Still playing God, Doctor?” Ana asked with a little smirk as Angela pushed herself from the balcony and plopped down on the nearest cushioned wicker chair to look up at her.

“Not a month ago you expressly requested I play God with your daughter, and now it's a problem?” Angela asked in a dry, slightly agitated tone.

“Why so cold, Angela?” Ana asked with a sigh as she moved towards the balcony Angela had only just been leaning against. 

“Because I'm tired of seeing you out of the corner of my eye in a city you shouldn't be in. Do you know how terrible it feels to keep this from her? The fact that her mother is too much of a coward to knock on my door? What, are you waiting until she's fixed? Can't put aside your own guilt long enough to speak to her?” 

As scathing as Angela’s words had been, she’d sounded calm. Ana knew better.

“Guilt is a terrible emotion to overcome,” Ana remarked noncommittally. “I only want to be sure she is recovering well.”

“She is. If you'd like to know more you can ask her yourself,” Angela realized, then, that her jaw was clenched. That Ana would have no inkling of why Angela felt so strongly about this. 

Or maybe she did. Angela couldn't really read Ana’s expression as she moved across the balcony to take a seat in the chair opposite Angela’s.

“I didn't come here to upset you. You're caring for my daughter. That's the very last thing I want. I came here because I know that you've known I'm here, and…,” Ana trailed off and sighed. “I suppose I wanted to know if seeing me is something she wants or needs, right now. And I felt you would be the best person to ask.”

Angela’s expression softened and something akin to exhaustion passed across her face as she glanced at Angela and then leaned back into her chair, pulling her legs up underneath herself in a way that made her seem, to Ana, very small.

“She would love to see you. I apologize for my...well. I apologize. This isn't my business.” 

“Isn't it?” Ana asked with a quiet chuckle as she stood from her seat and headed for the edge of the balcony. “Thank you for caring for her, Angela. I mean that. I'm assuming she's sleeping, so I'll be by tomorrow.”

Angela was just about to tell her to use the door when she slipped from the edge of the balcony the way she'd probably come.

They were so different, Angela thought to herself. Oh, there was no doubting Ana’s bravery. But she was a different kind of brave. Ana’s bravery seemed to live in her mind, while Fareeha’s had settled in her heart so deeply it seemed unshakable, even now.

Just the thought of Fareeha sleeping alone was enough to move Angela towards the sliding glass door that was still open. She locked it securely behind herself and pulled her robe a little tighter around herself as she realized she was freezing. She'd only meant to step outside for a moment, and she certainly hadn't dressed for more.

Fareeha looked so warm laying in the bed they now shared every night. She looked so peaceful. So much so that Angela almost opted to sleep on the couch rather than wake her.

Angela just didn't have it in her to walk away, though. Not tonight. So she didn't. Instead, she found herself walking towards the side of the bed Fareeha was sleeping on and sitting down against her side. 

It wasn't a moment later that Fareeha’s eyes fluttered open in response to Angela’s fingers combing slowly through her hair. 

“Hey,” Fareeha’s voice was soft and raspy with sleep, and Angela exhaled softly as she smiled in response. 

It was so unusual for Angela to wake her that Fareeha suddenly felt worry climb up her spine. Not that she minded. She wished she'd wake her up every time she came to bed, really. 

“Are you okay?” Fareeha asked as she tried to clear her vision enough to focus on the soft blue of Angela’s eyes as they stared down at her.

“I'm fine, Fareeha,” Angela murmured, and the soft sigh of relief that came from Fareeha made her heart ache. “I just wanted to be with you, and apparently I'm feeling very selfish tonight.” 

“You aren't,” Fareeha said as she pulled at Angela’s robe gently so that she would scoot close enough for Fareeha to run the back of her hand along her side. “What time is it?”

“Just past midnight,” Angela leaned over Fareeha, then, and propped herself up on her forearm folded on the other side of her. “Are you hungry?”

“I'm always hungry,” Fareeha’s response was so dry and matter-of-fact that Angela couldn't help but laugh.

Fareeha made her laugh more and more these days. Fareeha made her feel a lot of things, really. And she was getting used to that. She didn't have a choice, really. It was rather hard to avoid now that it was...unavoidable.

“You're thinking about something,” Fareeha observed, and Angela watched doubt creep its way into Fareeha’s eyes beneath furrowing brows. 

“You,” Angela said as she reached to trace the line of Fareeha’s jaw and brush her thumb across the down-turned corner of her mouth. “Just all the time I missed out on with you. How wonderful those years would have been with you in them.”

“Or I'm an insufferable idiot and you were lucky until now,” Fareeha suggested, and Angela shook her head in a mixture of amusement and adoration. 

“You're lovely,” Angela corrected gently. “And very sufferable. Let me make you something to eat.”

“Let me try,” Fareeha said quickly. “Let me do something for you.” 

Angela tilted her head and watched as Fareeha turned her own to kiss Angela’s palm where it had still been stroking across her cheek. “Okay. Sure.”

Angela began pushing herself out of bed and noticed Fareeha didn't have as hard a time as she once did getting up. She wondered when that had happened. She wondered when Fareeha had stopped being worried about Angela seeing her get to her feet, and when she'd stopped being concerned about wearing anything more than her boxer briefs and undershirt around her.

She was almost angry with herself for working so much. For burying herself in it. But she reminded herself as she walked towards the kitchen behind Fareeha that this was her reason. Fareeha was her reason. A reason she'd been sorely missing lately. 

Angela found her way to the kitchen island and Fareeha turned the hanging lights on so that it wasn't dark, but not so bright as to make it uncomfortably bright. 

Angela looked on in confusion as Fareeha kept walking right past the kitchen and returned a moment later holding something in her hand against the grip of one of her crutches. 

A book, Angela realized as Fareeha reached over to place it in front of her. “You always seem to start reading it and then you put it back down. Like you don't think you deserve even that much of a break.”

As much as Fareeha’s tone wasn't accusatory, her observation was still so accurate the truth of it stung a little. She pulled the book closer and brushed her fingertips across the cover. 

“So you should read while I cook. It'll probably take me a while, anyway,” Fareeha adjusted her stance and watched compulsory apprehension make itself known in every facet of Angela’s wordless response. “It’d make me really happy, Ange.” 

“Well, then I don't have much of a choice,” Angela responded as she toyed with the bookmark sticking out of the pages and wondered if she even remembered what she'd read weeks ago. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Fareeha didn't end up needing anything at all. And Angela has plenty of time to read while the scent of toast and eggs filled the kitchen. Fareeha, to her credit, managed to keep her noises of effort to a minimum despite the fact that Angela didn't mind hearing her at all. And any time she looked in Fareeha’s direction, she didn't look the least bit frustrated or upset. Just...pleasantly focused.

So, eventually, Angela allowed herself to become engrossed in her reading. It was, perhaps, one of the most blissful moments she'd had in recent memory. Just the sounds of Fareeha cooking as a backdrop to the flower prose her eyes were scanning over. Cooking for her. Cooking for them. 

It was truly something to get lost in. And lose herself, she did. All the way up until Fareeha was placing a cup of coffee down in front of Angela wordlessly. Angela reached for it without even thinking, and her eyes shot up when she realized after her first sip that it'd been made exactly how she liked it.

Just like the way she'd told Fareeha she took her coffee the morning after their first night together all those years ago. 

Angela remained silent while Fareeha continued serving them, thankful that the narrowness of the kitchen allowed her to do so without much difficulty. 

It was so simple. Just eggs and toast and good coffee with a salt and pepper shaker in front of them. But it was also unbelievably touching and perfect. So much so that when Fareeha finally rounded the corner to sit next to her, Angela stopped her with a gentle hand on her chest. A hand that slowly pulled Fareeha down by the front of her shirt so she could press their lips together in a shallow, lingering kiss.

“Thank you,” Angela whispered into the kiss, releasing Fareeha’s shirt to brush her hand across her chest when she felt Fareeha’s lips curl into a faint smile against her own. 

Angela quite liked simple meals like that. Fareeha had no way of knowing, of course. Perhaps it was just the rose-colored glasses Angela had been wearing since the moment Fareeha’s eyes had first open that night that made it all seem like yet another of the endless reasons she felt so deeply for the woman munching away at her toast beside her. 

“You're quiet when you're hungry,” Angela said after a mouthful of very well-executed scrambled eggs. If scrambled eggs could be described as such. “And when I've woken you up out of a dead sleep to cook for me while I read and do nothing to help.”

“You do more than enough,” Fareeha argued with more earnestness, perhaps, than the situation warranted. “Every day. And when I’m better I’m going to do a lot more than cook for you.” 

“You’re perfect already,” Angela countered with a faint smile, her toast now all but forgotten as she reached over to stroke along Fareeha’s thigh and give it a soft squeeze. “And you’ll be equally as perfect after the procedure. Nothing is going to change that.” 

Fareeha looked away and placed the crust of her toast down on her plate with a faint nod. “It’s really sweet that you...you’re just really sweet, Ange.” 

“I’m not trying to be sweet,” Angela countered, standing from her chair and collecting their plates to load them into the dishwasher. “I’m being honest with you.” 

Fareeha’s eyes lifted, then to watch her clean up from their impromptu midnight snack. 

Angela really was beautiful. Even the way she moved was beautiful. Graceful and easy in a way that sometimes made Fareeha feel like a bull in a china shop. Even more so now than…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fareeha cleared her throat and looked away from Angela’s sympathy. She couldn’t handle it right now. It was much easier to reach up into the kitchen cupboard of her little apartment and pull down a bottle. 

“Stay for a drink?” She asked, her voice low and even. Trained to be that way. Used to being that way. No matter what. No matter that Angela had just told her something that should have shattered her entire world. 

She reminded herself that it had been a very long time since her mother was her entire world. And that she’d been far from that for her in return. 

“Of course,” Angela’s response was emphatic. 

Just as emphatic as her whisper of warning a while later when they both sat on the couch and Fareeha’s hand had trailed too far up her inner thigh. A warning that Fareeha ignored. A warning Angela was glad she ignored.

Just as emphatic as her grip on Fareeha’s strong sides when she found herself on her back beneath her in her bed while Fareeha fucked her like it would make all of this go away if she did it well enough. 

And all the while, Angela kissed along her bare shoulder and groaned into her skin because there was little else she could do. Especially when Fareeha reached between them to help Angela along over the precipice she’d been toeing the line of. 

Again and again, they made a mess of Fareeha’s bed. Again and again, Fareeha gave until she didn’t have anything left to give. Until, finally, Angela could return at least some of what had been given. 

Even then, it wasn’t enough. As though Fareeha was terrified if they stopped she might break.

But nothing could last forever. 

And Angela held her as she sobbed bitterly into her shoulder and went limp against her. 

She stroked across the sweat-slicked skin of her back and over her damp hair and murmured so many apologies and reassurances that she was breathless before long. As though she’d ever really had a chance to catch her breath to begin with. 

“I’m sorry,” Fareeha finally said into the darkness of the room once she was utterly spent in every conceivable way - her voice raspy in a way that made it sound almost painful to use. 

Angela pulled the mess of sheets over them and rolled onto her side, pulling Fareeha along with her so that they were facing each other. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Angela whispered as Fareeha turned her head and pressed her face into the pillow. “Please don’t be.”

“I shouldn’t have put this on you. I shouldn’t have made you feel like you had to-”

“Stop right there,” Angela cut her off, albeit gently. “I wouldn’t be in your bed unless I wanted to be. I only had two drinks. A laughable amount compared to my usual. You didn’t do anything wrong. You needed me, and I was fine with that. End of story. Okay?” 

Fareeha’s eyes fluttered open, and all their usual brown was lost in the night. Yet, there was still warmth in the blackness of them. Still a near-overwhelming amount of emotion. She looked so open and raw compared to the woman who had received the news Angela had come to give only a few hours ago. 

“Will you stay?” Fareeha asked quietly. “Just until morning?” 

“Of course I will,” Angela whispered, lifting an arm as Fareeha turned so that her back was pressed against Angela’s chest. 

Angela was happy to stay. Angela was always happy to be what other people needed. Even if only for a night. Even if she’d seen something in Fareeha’s eyes that made her wish…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where’d you go?” Fareeha asked, and Angela nearly jumped out of her skin to find Fareeha standing next to her at a sink. It was still running. She reached out to turn off the tap quickly. 

“I don’t know,” She responded with a furrow of her brow before she turned to face Fareeha. 

“Well, come back,” Fareeha whispered, lifting one of her hands from the grip of her crutch to cradle Angela’s cheek in her palm. “Be here with me.” 

“I am,” Angela murmured with a sigh, and stepped forward when Fareeha’s hand slid to the back of her head to guide her into a hug. 

God, how long had it been since Angela’d had a hug? She didn’t know. 

But it felt nice to be here in Fareeha’s arms. It felt nice that they were both supporting each other. That Fareeha could lean into her and use her as an anchor. That Angela could do the same in a much different way. 

“Are you ready for bed?” Fareeha asked in a murmur in Angela’s hair before she pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Come to bed with me for once?” 

“I’d like that,” Angela murmured with a smile. “I think I will.” 

“Good.”


End file.
